Better not drink all the booze. His teachers may need some.

excited little munchkin

Braden started a “Kid’s Day Out” program today. He’ll be going there twice a week for about 4.5 hours.

I made a joke on Twitter last night about it, where I may have said something like, “Braden is starting a “Kid’s Day Out” program tomorrow. I’m sad. And by sad, I mean, HELL YEAH BITCHEZ!!!!!!!!!!!1!1 *cough*”

Give or take a Hell yeah. Or a few exclamation points. Or something.

Okay, okay so those were my exact words.

I was really just kidding. I mean, it’s not as if I’ve had this written on my calendar for MONTHS in bright red ink, circled in double-wide black sharpie marker with large, swooping circles and underlined with pink glitter pen ink that almost screams I CAN’T WAIT, HOLY CRAP, I CAN’T WAIT.

Nope.

Who would do something like that? Pffft. Not me, that’s who. I’m a loving parent who never takes a moment with her son for granted.

No, you may not borrow my calendar to check on something real quick. Get your own damn calendar.

And it isn’t like I’m insanely stocked on party streamers and noise makers and booze and practically did flips all the way home from the damn place today. What kind of horrible parent do you take me for?

(Do not pay any attention to that pile of streamers and noise makers and booze over there. I am collecting for Goodwill. That’s the donation pile. Shut up. People who shop at Goodwill have to party too, DON’T THEY? Look at you, all High and Mighty, all “only us highly privileged people get to have parties with streamers and noise makers and booze.” You disgust me.)

Furthermore, I didn’t run out the door without even saying “Goodbye” to him, or telling the teacher his name. I didn’t forget to leave his lunch with him, and just throw it at one of the windows of the building as I was running away, deliriously screaming (or doing flips). And I didn’t yell something like, “YOU MAY NEVER SEE ME AGAIN!!!!” followed by mad cackling so loud it scared the birds out of the trees in a three mile radius.

I’m kind of baffled that you would even think any of those things. Where did you come up with that crap? Are you mentally unstable? I think you might need help.

I’d have to be as insane as you clearly are to do any of those things. I mean, I’d have to be plain out of my mind to do anything other than have been excited for him for the past week while at the same time feeling a weird tightness in my chest that I couldn’t shake.

I’d have to be kind of a crazy lunatic not to realize that, while cliched, this is literally the start of a long process where my child starts to cleave from me.  This is a thing I am both carefully, joyfully, preparing him for with everything I do for him every day and dreading with all the tiny fibers in my heart – the heart that clenched up a little this morning when I kissed him goodbye and I had to leave.

But I’m cool with it. Yeah, totally.  I didn’t feel kind of angsty while I was packing his lunch, I didn’t get a little sentimental when I wrote his name on a tag for his backpack, my heart didn’t swell and smoosh when I watched him walking to school with his Daddy, I didn’t take too many photos of him on his first day of school, and I didn’t frown a little when I got home and the house was blessedly quiet.

And empty.

Sigh.

This will be good for him.

I hope I can survive it.

(The booze will help. WOOOHOOOOOOOOO!)

, , , , , , ,

11 Comments

I’m talking to YOU. And you. And you. You too. I see you looking.

If you’re reading this, I’m asking for your help on behalf of Kevin from Always Home and Uncool, his family, and all other families affected by Juvenile Myositis.

You’ve probably never heard of it, but for some families, Juvenile Myositis, an autoimmune disorder in children, is front and center.  This is not happy fun times, you dig?  You can find out more in Kevin’s latest post.  No little ones should go through something like this.  No families should.

Pepsi is giving away a 250K grant and you can vote (see below) to send that money to Cure JM to fund research to help make Juvenile Myositis a memory.

Today is the LAST day to vote, and this proposal has to be in the top 2 to win the grant money.

They’ve *just* slipped to number 3.

More votes are needed.

Luckily, you can help EASILY. And you can vote 3 times, in 3 different ways, right now.

Please vote 3 TIMES today, before midnight EST:

  1. Send a text vote: Text 100850 to PEPSI at 73774 (standard text messaging rates apply)
  2. Use the Facebook app: http://bit.ly/CureJMonFB
  3. Vote directly from the Pepsi website site at http://www.refresheverything.com/makejmamemory

And please share this with anyone you can. Pass it on.

This is easy. It will take so little of your time, yet make such a difference.

Thank you.

, , , , ,

6 Comments

Weekly Winners, August 22-28

Weekly Winners Information

August 22nd – 28th
Some of these shots taken with my: Canon Powershot G9
Others taken with a Canon EOS Digital Rebel XT (on loan from a friend)


Hanging low in the pink.




The Doh of Play




Helping Hands




He asked us for stars, so we made sure he’d reach some that night.




Leaves: One of the great joys of childhood.




Mmm, oatmeal.




To view all my photos, visit my Flickr Photostream


Wanna Know More?

Weekly Winners Information

All My Past WW Posts

, ,

19 Comments

I don’t even know how to find a witchdoctor, but I bet Google does.

You know what’s fun? Walking. Walking is awesome.

In fact, I think I want to start walking a lot. To all kinds of places. Like the gym and the grocery store and, well, pretty much anywhere I want to go.

And I think to make it more awesome than it is inherently, which, in case you didn’t know, is really freaking awesome, I think I’ll carry Braden strapped to my back, everywhere I go. You know, WALKING. Everywhere.

You know, the gym, the grocery store, the pool, downtown, the library, special events, you know PRETTY MUCH ANYWHERE I WANT TO GO.

Do you know WHY?

Because I freaking love walking.

Oh, and it might have just a little bit to do with the fact that on Sunday our car decided to die a horrible death. As in, the engine had a myocardial infarction and its soul has risen to Engine Heaven.

We do not have the funds to remedy this kick in the ass by The Universe.*

Because we are stupid and don’t save our money properly awesome.

I mean, walking is a nice thing to do for exercise or window shopping and all but DAMMIT it’s TEXAS out there people, as in 105 degrees, and my ass isn’t walking ANYWHERE awesome.

And I’m going to do it. A lot.

Please kill me now.

PS: The only thing I hold onto that makes this all okay is that the day that our car decided to give up and leave us stranded like the selfish son of a bitch it clearly is, I pulled out my phone to search for something and it suggested I choose from the closest wireless networks.  And either this person is supposed to be my best friend EVER (something just suggests to me that we’d think the same things are funny) or the dickhead was totally serious and did some black magic on our car.

Yeah, that’s right. I’m talking about jackie1.

I’m on to you, Jackie.  We’re either going to be blood sisters, or I’m contacting a crazy voodoo witchdoctor to help me send your soul to hell for eternity.

*Post which documents previous signs that The Universe is a dickhead.

, , , , ,

10 Comments